Redemption
by Moon Fox
Summary: After Arthur died he found himself engulfed in the battle for humanities survival in a different plane of existance. His reward is returning to his life. But, has he changed enough to change his own destiny? (complete)
1. Chapter 1 - Hell

**Title**: Redemption  
**Category/Rating/Warnings**: Gen/M/ Angst  
**Characters**: Arthur, Gwaine

**Summary**: After Arthur died he found himself engulfed in the battle for humanities survival in a different plane of existance. His reward is returning to his life. But, has he changed enough to change his own destiny?

**AN**: _Gift for Vaughntronic for all the Lancelot/Merlin love she has given to me. All she wanted was some Arthur with wings. While playing Diablo 3 with her I came up with this idea. It's a bit dark and sort of follows the plot of the game._

_Word count is a bit shorter than normal for my multichapter fics. (like only 4k words) but I think it still works for the style._

_Speaking of style... this one was quite different in other ways as well. I typically go for the omniscent narrative style and not focus just on one character in a scene. This is almost completely Arthur (with one chapter being an exception because I couldn't figure out how to work it otherwise)._

_It also kind of shifts back and forth between the Diablo 3 world of Sanctuary (after Arthur's death at Camlann) and Camelot before Camlann._

_Most of the pieces from Hell (the diablo 3 version of this story) are meant to be more like flashbacks of the things Arthur experienced after he died. This piece takes place not long after he was returned to his life in Camelot. The events he witnessed and battles he fought in Sanctuary have changed his perspective on the final few months of his life._

_Beta'ed by the wonderful Nance and flow help from IcarusLSU._

* * *

He could no longer feel his nose. His ears were so cold that he hadn't even acknowledged their existence, except to recognize the sounds of battle that continuously rang through them.

The storm beat down, assaulting him from all sides, but his focus was on the beast in front of him. He didn't know what it was called, even though the angel had told him before he had exited the stone tower. All he knew was that it reeked of pure evil.

The sword in his hand was not his own, but he continued to wield it with deadly precision. Under his armor, his clothing clung to him like a second skin from the build-up of perspiration. His hair was dark and matted. Were it not for the freezing temperatures, he was sure it would have dripped sweat into his eyes; stinging them and attempting to obscure his vision. As it was, the cold froze the strands.

The clash of steel against bone and flesh resounded through his arms. One foe fell and another was there to take its place as fire rained down from the sky. Men around him screamed in agony or were simply shredded before they knew what had happened.

He fought on, because he couldn't do anything else. More demons rose up around him, and winged creatures out of nightmares dropped from the clouds to snatch up an unsuspecting victim. He shouldn't think that. They all expected to be crushed under the claws of these monsters. But, no matter how much they understood of their situation, when the end came it was still unexpected.

Twisting his sword in his hand,he braced himself for yet another wave of creatures.

Needless to say, this was not where he thought he would end up after he had died.


	2. Chapter 2 - Returned to Life

**Two: Returned to Life**

* * *

Dim starlight filtered through the break in the tapestry. The room beyond was dark and cold. A feminine figure in the bed slept on, unaware of the pain that plagued the man who stood staring out the window into the dark night.

He clenched and unclenched his hands, attempting to rid himself of the ever-present ache from the biting cold that had settled in his bones. He wondered sometimes if what he had experienced had been a dream, even though the nightmares that plagued him kept him from any sort of peaceful slumber.

Below the south-facing window, the courtyard was quiet. Braziers smoldered at the gates. He could see the shadowy figures of his guards huddled around them for warmth as they guarded the castle. Little did they know..the enemy was already within their walls.

Cold, blue eyes turned toward the bed. His beautiful wife slumbered peacefully. It was only a matter of days before he would find out the truth of her deception.

She had poisoned him and imprisoned his best friend in the dungeons. Even now, after the fact, he knew she was not to blame, but he had been warned that everything needed to play out as it had before until the very end.

He wasn't the same man he had been before. The fact that he already knew what was going to happen was testament to that. He had died, not from the poison, but from a wound taken from a young man he had trusted with a magical sword.

Unconsciously, his hand moved to the deep ache of the wound he had not yet sustained. It was just one of many nearly fatal blows that riddled his body. His mind, however, felt more scarred than his body. He knew what the future held, because he had lived this life before his death.

His last words had been to his best friend. A brother in so many ways. Words of gratitude for helping him build the great kingdom. Eyes clouded with pain had never set eyes upon the shores of Avalon, the place where he had been promised healing. He had made peace with himself and the man who had betrayed him...the same man who had saved him countless times over.

He never truly expected to go to heaven after all that he had done, but the hell he had been thrown into was beyond anything he could have imagined.

A muffled chuckle of disdain broke the silence and it took him a moment to realize that he had been the one to make the sound. His eyes darted quickly back to the bed. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when the queen did not stir.

His servant had disappeared into the night and he had watched him go. He had never found out why the dark-haired man had run off on that evening. Arthur only knew that he had returned with a limp and a young man who had ultimately saved them. Daegal had been the boy's name...or would be when the time came for the king to find out.

The first memory after his death had been a beautiful one, but the lush, verdant isle beyond the Gates of Avalon was quickly fading from his memory.


	3. Chapter 3- Avalon, After Death

**Three: Avalon, After Death**

Laughter fell on his ears. It was warm and happy. He sat up to find himself in a boat that was rocking gently next to the shore. Mist obscured the water surrounding him, but the sunlight shone on the island and the castle upon the hill.

Golden ringlets fell around the face of a woman who he had only seen once before. She had come to him through the use of strong magic by a woman who had then turned into his enemy.

Arthur was thankful that Merlin had stopped him from killing his father after that fateful meeting, but now he could see the truth for what it was. The ghost who had been brought forth had indeed been his mother.

She welcomed him now into the Summerlands. For the first time in his life, he felt truly whole...truly at peace.

It wasn't a surprise that he hadn't seen his father there. He knew now how corrupt his father had been. But even with that knowledge, he could not find it in his heart to be angry with the man. Uther was his father and had been a great king in his own right. The fact that Arthur's opinions had drifted from the legacy his father had built was of no consequence in this place.

Time meant nothing in this place. Days and nights ran together in an unending loop of happiness.

Then one day, he felt something stirring in his chest. It was as familiar of a sensation as ever there had been for him. His heart quickened and his breath came up short. Every muscle in his body tensed. The trembling anxiety that always appeared just before battle - something that before reminded him that he was alive - set his senses afire with readiness.

He had always felt fear and nervousness before combat. It was as natural as breathing. It served to make him more acutely aware of his surroundings as the adrenaline began to pump through his veins.

The sun dimmed and he raised his hand to shield his eyes when he looked upward.

A great, red comet roared across the sky, turning the bright blue into a mess of reddish hues, fringed with orange and blackness.

"No rest for the weary, eh, my friend?" From the past his life came back to him in flashes and Arthur turned to see a friendly face he had nearly forgotten.

"Gwaine!" He exclaimed in delight. "What on earth are you doing here?"

The dark brown hair was pushed off to the side with a battle-worn hand. "Same as you, it seems. I died."

Arthur had no response to the statement. It saddened him to think that one of his most trusted friends had joined him in the afterlife. At the same time, he was curious as to why Gwaine seemed to be the only one with him.

"There are more of us around. Lancelot. Elyan. Bedivere. Owain. Geraint. Nearly every man who had ever died for you is here, just waiting for your orders."

"Orders for what?" Arthur was completely befuddled. If they were all dead and this was heaven, there shouldn't be any need for him to give orders...

He turned his face skyward again and noticed the growing unnatural darkness spreading in the comet's wake.

"You can see why. I was told that the Gates have been breached by demons and they need everyone who can wield a sword to help fight them back."

Seeing the slump that came over Arthur's shoulders was not what Gwaine had expected.

"We've already fought our battles. We earned our places here."

"...And now, we have to fight to keep them if we want to remain." Pulling on leather gloves, Gwaine gave his king a hearty grin. "Also, I was told we may be rewarded for it: a chance to go back home and change things when this is all over. I don't know about you, but I'm finding this place a bit boring. All the ale I can drink and women I can fuck..." Gwaine grinned, " It was nice at first, but it's got nothing on the thrill of nearly being caught by Audrey for sneaking into her kitchen to steal a freshly baked dumpling."

Arthur pursed his lips. He shifted his weight back and forth, torn by the idea of being able to actually live again. "She really did make the best dumplings, didn't she?"


	4. Chapter 4- Reliving, Camelot

**Four: Reliving, Camelot**

Gwaine didn't remember that conversation.

He didn't remember anything about being on the other side of the Veil...at least, not consciously it seemed or that he would confide in Arthur about.

Arthur had tried to speak with him, and occasionally he could see flecks of the memories filter through the roguish man's brown eyes. None of it ever was brought to full awareness between the two of them. Like Arthur, Gwaine suffered from nightmares of the battles they had fought for the world called Sanctuary that resided beyond the Gates of Avalon. The rest of Arthur's knights could sense that something had changed for the two men, but Arthur was the only one who could see it for what it truly was.

They had literally been to hell and back, before being deposited back into their lives at a time before they had died. At a time when they should have been dead.

The king often wondered when that had been for Gwaine. It had to have been before Arthur was reintegrated into the timeline of his own life; to the night he now knew that it had been Merlin who had saved him from the poison.

His own wife had tried to kill him. She was under the spell of Morgana at the time. The number of occasions Arthur's sister had used Guinevere was disturbing. It was amazing to see how oblivious he had been to it all the first time around. He once trusted Gwen with all his heart, but now he found his faith in her waning. He realized how susceptible she was to Morgana's influence over the years and wondered why.

He had followed Merlin outside of the castle that night with the full awareness of what they would find. His wife was meeting with Morgana.

That moment was etched into the very fiber of his being. Reacting accordingly, he went through the motions as if he was ignorant as to why Merlin had led him to this place. His sword slid out of its scabbard, only to have Merlin predictably hold out his hand to stop him.

Next, they would devise a plan to take Guinevere to the Cauldron of Arianrhod, where Mordred's unexpected arrival would save them.

He was no longer blind to the young man's destiny and it weighed heavily on his soul. It took all the strength he could muster not to flinch each time Mordred approached him. The knight's fate was not sealed, not if Arthur could help it, but it didn't make the knowledge of what was to come any easier to bear.


	5. Chapter 5- Searching Sanctuary

**Five: Searching Sanctuary**

He wasn't sure what was in that pool of liquid that Adria had been viewing. They'd made it into the lower level of the ruins just as she was casting her spell. As much as he wanted to run her through at that very moment, Arthur held his blade. They needed information from her first. She was searching for the Black Soul Stone in order to try and resurrect the Prime Evil, Diablo.

Rising out of the thick liquid was a gruesome representation of the city where Malthael was supposed to be. Malthael was an angel at one time, much like Tyraell and Imperius. But, unlike his brethren, he'd taken a step into darkness in order rid the worlds of the plague he felt humanity had become.

Diablo, the Prime Evil of all existence, had been confined to a stone. Now, Malthael had it and it was Arthur's quest to see that the fallen angel didn't get a chance to use it.

Arthur shared a look with Gwaine. They had both committed the scene to memory. It was time to kill Adria for what she had done.

Leah, Adria's daughter, was lost to them. Before she knew who her mother was, she had been a man named Deckard Cain. He'd been a magic user and scholar who had seen the beginning of the hell this world had been plunged into. Cain had kept detailed journals that had been invaluable at getting to know the lay of the land and some of the best ways to kill the demons they faced.

Leah had taken over her uncle's research. She was sweet and kind, inside of her she held a power that no one could have guessed.

Her mother was worse than Morgana in what she had done to her daughter. Adria had given herself to the demon, allowing the Diablo to use Leah as a vessel for his own return. There was nothing they could do to save Leah now, and their only recourse was revenge against the witch.

The fight had been the hardest challenge they had yet to face, but in the end they had overcome Adria and returned to Tyrael; battered and bruised.

Following him, they made their way to the Pandemonium Fortress. The Highest Heaven, as Tyraell called it. But, as they stepped through the magical portal, Arthur could see that they were already too late.

Demons spawned around them and they fought their way to the gates.

Imperius was the last person, or angel, that Arthur had expected to help them. If he was honest, though, Imperius was not much assistance.

The Highest Archangel of the Council did not disagree with Malthael's actions, and would have liked to have seen humanity stricken from the worlds himself. Yet, something in Imperius' words rang with a note of truth through Arthur's soul. Not for humanity, but for being unable to destroy his own brother.

He found himself comparing his own choices to Imperius'. Morgana had once been a friend and sister, even before her true parentage had come to light. He didn't disagree with what she was trying to accomplish with freeing her kind, but the way she went about it spoke of a sickness deep inside her core.

If the angels couldn't help one of their own, then what chance did he have on the mortal plane?

Imperius should have been the one to face Malthael. But again, Arthur found himself sympathetic to the angel's reasoning. Many times he'd had a chance to kill Morgana and had turned away. He had hoped his compassion would have been enough to bring her back.

As he and Gwaine prepared to enter Heaven in order to make their way to the gate of the Pandemonium Fortress, he knew that he had to be strong. If they survived this, the only chance he had of surviving his destiny was to meet it full on.


	6. Chapter 6- A Day Before Destiny

**Six: A Day Before Destiny**

The flap of the tent was pulled aside and a cool burst of air jarred him from his meditations. The desk in front of him was covered in maps of the region and troop movements. He wasn't going to die tomorrow, not if he could help it...not again, anyway.

He marveled at the complexity of his own war tent in a way he'd never even considered before. In the afterlife, while battling demons and all manner of vile creatures, he'd taken nothing more than the essentials.

Gwaine had been at his side almost the entire time. Others he had known and fought with, joined them for the larger battles, but most of it had been left up to Arthur. His destiny had been written long before he had even been born.

Arthur lifted his tired blue eyes. His hands were steepled under his chin as he watched his wife enter the tent. He hadn't wanted her to come along...neither this time nor the last. But, now that he knew what she was going to say, his jaw locked to keep himself from making any comment.

Morgana had cast a dark spell that tortured Guinevere's mind and convinced her that Arthur needed to be eliminated.

He almost burst out laughing when Gwen leaned against one of the support posts in the tent and set her imploring eyes on him. Had Morgana only known that the failed attempt to poison him ended up being the key moment that was needed to give him life again, he wondered if she would have taken his wife like she had.

The dark-skinned beauty he'd once dreamt about and loved was staring at him. She still hadn't forgiven herself.

Arthur still hadn't forgiven her either, but for different reasons. He had once loved her with all of his heart, but that was before she had betrayed him. None of the situations were her fault, or so he tried to convince himself. Yet, after all he had seen and been through, it was difficult for him to see her as he once had.

Adria had used Leah and Morgana had used Gwen. The similarities were striking in one aspect. However, Adria's deception had begun before Leah had even been born.

Leah...Her name was a sad whisper on still lips.

He could have loved her. No one would ever know how close Arthur had actually come to considering staying in that place just for her.

He admired her strength and tenacity...and even her own mother had cursed her to become the embodiment of that demon. That was hell, not just the mind games Morgana had played with Guinevere.

Deep inside, Arthur believed Guinevere should have been able to fight against it. He knew it wasn't logical, but he blamed her for the part she unwillingly played.

She led him to the bed that had been set up and began undressing him. He allowed her to and even played the part of the smitten husband, knowing that after their passion she would want to talk to him. Guinevere would describe for him the hell she had gone through during that time.

It was all he could do to pretend he was listening.

She had no knowledge of true hell. He'd been there.

He had witnessed heaven torn asunder by battlefields of winged beings. Angels and demons ripping apart a once great, shining castle in an eternal struggle of light and dark.

Sometime after, Arthur fell into a restless sleep. He was plagued once again by the nightmares of the time after his death.

He awoke feeling a presence. Arthur couldn't recall having been woken the first time around. He must have been, though. Merlin was calling to him. It felt familiar.

Suddenly, he knew it was time.

He rushed out of the tent and found Gwaine.

The brunette tried to hide what they both already knew. Finally, Gwaine allowed Arthur to see the truth in his eyes. The memories. The scars they shared. He clasped Arthur's forearm tightly. "Don't get dead," he said softly.

Arthur nodded knowingly. "Same goes for you."

While he had tried to change Mordred's fate, Arthur wasn't sure if he had succeeded. Soon, he would be facing the young knight while Gwaine battled his own demons.

He realized he hadn't changed the path anyone else had taken.

He watched as Gwaine led Percival and nearly two-hundred soldiers back down the canyon toward the hidden path. Either they would change their own destinies or this would be the last time Arthur would see his friend. Fate be damned, because he refused to be again.


	7. Chapter 7- Pandemonium

**Seven: Pandemonium**

Closing his eyes, he could imagine what the halls might have looked like before the demons had invaded.

Columns of pristine marble, laced with golden inlays; floors so sparkling clean that a king could have a meal on it and feel right at home. The ancient vases that lined the halls would have seemed gaudy in any other setting. White stone led the way up grand staircases to landings decorated alternatively with elaborate fountains, or trees with amazing cerulean blue leaves that danced in their own mysterious breeze.

This was heaven. The real Heaven. Complete with angels whose wings were like the flickering edges of a fire just before it became smoke, almost translucent. Still visible enough that the shifting air made them visible to the naked eye.

He took another bite of the toughened meat that had been preserved within an inch of its existence. It tasted vaguely rotten, but it was sustenance.

"We should get a move on." Gwaine's voice fell like a stone on the serenity Arthur's mind had created.

"Yes. I suppose we should."

"Hey, what happened to her...it's not your fault." Gwaine said, referring Leah. They had already taken their vengeance out against Adria, but now they were going to face Malthael. He now had the Black Soul Stone in which Diablo and Leah's souls were imprisoned and intertwined for eternity.

Arthur cursed and threw the dried meat stick he'd been chewing on across the debris scattered room. Immediately, rat like creatures poured from the shadows to pounce on it like it was their last meal. It very well could have been if either Arthur or Gwaine had the energy to see to the vermins' demise.

"How could her own mother have done that to her? How could anyone do such a thing to their own child?"

Gwaine shrugged. He had no answers for Arthur. "I say we finish this and go home."

With a heavy sigh, Arthur pulled himself off the floor and looked around. The magnificent halls of Heaven in his mind were nothing more than blood-soaked ruins of Hell.

Drawing his sword, he shouldered his pack and moved towards the stairs at the end of the corridor.


	8. Chapter 8- Camlann

**Eight: Camlann**

Merlin stared down into the blood-soaked ravine, just as the sun began to rise. The spirits of the dead lingered like thick smoke across the valley floor. His eyes scanned quickly over the fallen, searching for the golden-blond hair of his king.

When he finally found it, Merlin nearly stepped off the edge of the cliff in shock.

Arthur was surrounded by Saxons. Merlin raised his staff in preparation to blast them away when it seemed like a fire had suddenly burst to life around Arthur.

Wings, the color of flames and cast by the brilliant light of the sun's first rays, engulfed Arthur's back. Power, unlike anything Merlin had ever know, shrouded the king in a majestic light and pushed the enemies away.

For a brief second, Arthur turned and glanced up to the top of the cliff. His hair was soaked with sweat and the moisture reflected the light of the angelic wings. Their eyes met and Arthur gave his friend a coy smirk.

Morgana's scream of outrage echoed through the canyon.

Pushing aside his confusion, Merlin turned his power on her. Her voice was silenced as she fell back against the rock wall.

When he looked again for his king, Arthur was gone. He was rushing through the throng of bodies and straight toward Mordred.

Merlin cried out in disbelief, willing his king to stop, but Arthur ran on. Everything was edging closer to his destiny.


	9. Chapter 9- Forgiveness

**Nine: Forgiveness**

_AN: This is the final chapter. Everything I tried after this just fell flat or sort of went into the 'crack!fic' category and so I decided to just end it. Enjoy! Thanks for reading and leave a review if you would be so kind!_

* * *

He never thought much about the afterlife before he was actually face-to-face with it. Before Merlin arrived in his life, there had been no reason to. His life had been mapped out for him. Every minute of every day was plotted and accounted for. Uther had made certain of that.

When his end finally came the first time, Arthur had been in complete denial. When he faced Mordred for a second time, Arthur's blinders had been removed. He no longer held any illusions about his own mortality. There was no script for his life at this moment. It was all or nothing; kill or be killed... again. His time in Hell had cured him the emotional attachment he had once felt for the young knight.

Mordred was out for his blood and now Arthur was out for his, as well. Without any hesitation, Arthur's sword struck true into the heart the former knight. Mordred had smiled the first time...not so this time.

He fell upon Arthur's blade and then crumpled to the ground, joining the piles of bodies. Just another corpse in a growing field of harvested souls. Arthur stepped over the boy's body as if it was nothing more than a stone in the road.

His sword was at Morgana's throat the moment she awoke. For the briefest of seconds, he paused. Imperius may have not been able to kill his own brother, but Arthur had learned a painful lesson from his own inability to finish Morgana off in the past.

When her eyes met his, her look was of utter disbelief.

He no longer saw the girl he once cared for, only the demons that now plagued her soul. In that moment, he finally forgave himself for what had been his own downfall.

Before she could even speak, Arthur thrust his sword downward.


End file.
